Spirited Away
by JaeKay
Summary: A young girl is subject to unspeakable horrors and the Countess of Monte Cristo is born. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I absolutely adored The Count of Monte Cristo, so I did a fanfic about it. I hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism is more than welcome. The real Count of Monte Cristo belongs to Alexandre Dumas, the greatest writer of revenge. Ever.

**Spirited Away**

"You look beautiful." My boyfriend said to me as we walked in the gardens after my sixteenth birthday ball. I blushed.

"Thanks."

He put his arm around me a pulled me close. I shivered. He was so gentle. And passionate. "So." He said as he sat me down on a bench in front of an elegant swan fountain. "I've been thinking."

I looked up at him. "Yes?"

He knelt on one knee and reached into his jacket. "You deserve…only the best. And I think I can be the best." I smiled at his egotistical words. I was oblivious to the coming surprise.

"Eric-"

"No, Esmeralda. Sh. You need to understand something." He looked me right in the eye. "I love you. So much. It hurts every second I look at you and you're not guaranteed to be mine."

I blushed crimson.

"Therefore, I played a gambit. I hope it can keep you loyal to me and only me."

I wanted to roll my eyes. Gosh. He was so cute, but he didn't see what he was saying. I was sixteen! He was eighteen! He was talking about long-term commitments here. We had only been together two months. I sat, dumbly, speechlessly, and surprisingly, not heaving a sigh and telling him to get to his point.

"So, I pondered. How can I guarantee that you love me alone? Then it hit me. So I kneel here before you today and ask: Esmeralda, my darling, will you be my bride?" He pulled a small box from his coat and opened it in front of me.

I laughed. Then my eyes got wide. He wasn't kidding. "Eric, I...I..."

"Esme! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Eric snapped the box shut and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Hey, Pierre!" I twisted around and cautiously called out to him. Then I snuck a peek at Eric. He was easing up off of the ground.

"Eric! Hello, I didn't see you there."

"Pierre. Your presence is always a joy." Eric said through slightly clenched teeth.

I jumped in. "Did you need something, Pierre?"

"Oh, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. And tell you that Mme. Greene is past ready to serve the cake. She's getting impatient."

I rose. Eric stood beside me. "Go on inside, Pierre. We'll be right there." I said.

"Sure."

I turned to Eric. "Eric, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I'm sixteen. I can't make that kind of commitment yet. And we've known each other two months! Not yet, Eric. I'm sorry."

I turned and pulled away from his gentle grasp. Then I followed Pierre into the grand hall. As soon as I walked away, I knew I didn't regret my decision.

I walked into the party and looked around. Mme. Greene signaled to me to get over to the cake. I took a step forward. Pierre intercepted me and walked next to me.

"What was that?" He whispered.

"I-I'm not sure." I answered haltingly. Pierre was my best friend. I could tell him anything. But, for some reason, I couldn't look him in the eye when I told him that Eric had proposed to me.

"Wow." He said.

"I know." I agreed and walked a little faster. My friend Odette was the next to fall into step with me.

"What happened? You look like someone just killed your puppy."

"The term is 'kicked', Odette. And don't pretend you don't know what happened."

She squealed. "Okay, I know. So… What did you say?"

I sighed. "I said that I'm sixteen and we've been together two months."

She gasped. "You said no?" She fell back and I closed the distance between me and Mme. Greene by myself.

I guess you could say my sixteenth birthday wasn't every girl's dream. My mother and step-father had just taken another trip to the Americas and had left me and my step-brother to throw my party. Did I mention he's two? My boyfriend proposed to me and then promptly left after I said 'no'. I can't help but look at my best friend as if he'd just grown another head. This whole rumor that he has a crush on me has got to be quashed. My other best friend was disappointed in me and was jealously craving the relationship I had with my aforementioned best friend. (Odette really needs to realize that Pierre really does not lust for her *shudder*) And, as I reflected on all that, I realized that I needed to add another thing to my list. The embarrassment of tripping over your own foot and being launched headlong into the poor table that had been chosen to support my massive cake.

All of my "friends" laughed and jeered. Mme. Greene hastily dismissed them. I looked up through cake-blurred vision and watched Pierre rush to my aid. Odette was close behind, if only to ensure that Pierre didn't ignore her.

But, as Pierre wiped the icing from my face and helped me up, I noticed how extremely envious Odette seemed. And I got mad. Well, mad is a relative term. It was more of a, what's the word, feeling of pure rage and hatred that I had just had the worst birthday ever and all she could do was stand and watch HIM.

I broke free of Pierre's strong grip and strode over to Odette. "Thank you for coming, dear." I walked her to the door. When we stood together on the threshold I wrapped my cake-smeared arm around her shoulders. "You know the biggest reason I said no to Eric?"

She looked at me warily. "What?" She asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

"I love Pierre. Not him." Then I turned on my heel and left her to ponder my statement and maybe even comprehend it.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day was a beautiful sunny spring day. I ran through Pierre's front lawn.

"Esmeralda! No fair! You cheated!"

I held on to a pole and swung around it by my arm. I stuck out my tongue at him. Feeling like having a little fun, I walked toward him and staggered to the ground.

See, I was a superb actress. I always had been. But every time I pulled a fainting act in front of Pierre, he would totally fall for it. It never failed to fool him. And I loved it.

What I had said last night was purely for revengeful purposes. I knew I had extremely fond feelings for him, but I wasn't sure if I wanted more for us. All my girlfriends said he had a crush on me. However, I was cautious with this label they applied to my best friend. I had seen small crushes harm wonderful friendships and was not about to mess up what we had on a whim. Nonetheless, I enjoyed his reaction to my supposed illness.

"Esme? Esme! Are you okay?" He sprinted to my limp form and kneeled over me. "Jacques! Quick! Miss Navarre is ill!"

I popped an eye and peered at him. He looked so concerned. I decided that he was not a normal sixteen year old boy. He was special.

He heaved a sigh and called off his butler. "Never mind, Jacques. She's fine." He looked at me admonishingly.

I giggled and re-closed my eye.

"Why, you!" He cried. He reached down and tickled me.

I shrieked and picked myself up off of the ground. I ran to the other side of the yard and into an enclosure surrounded by trees.

I hid behind a particularly thick tree and waited for him to enter the clearing.

"Esme? Where did you go?"

"Boo!" I popped out from behind my tree to frighten him.

"I knew you were there!"

"Ha! You were scared! Admit it! Scared like a little child!"

"I was not!" His face grew red.

"Were too!"

"Not!"

I laughed and sat on a fallen log. He stood over me.

"You're not very lady-like, Miss Navarre."

I attempted to match his deep voice. "Neither are you Monsieur Davants."

He smiled and knelt in front of me. We sat in silence for a minute.

I had finally decided to see if the rumors were true. Could I love Pierre? Sure. It was easy. Just a step beyond friendship. Did I love him? That was debatable.

I spoke up. "If I asked you to do something, would you?"

"Anything, Esmeralda. Ask anything."

"I ask you to tell me your most closely guarded secret."

"Secrets don't make friends."

"Ah. But friends make secrets. We are friends aren't we?"

"Yes, Esme." He grinned and sat on the log beside me.

I waited.

"How do I know you will keep my deepest secret?"

"You'll just have to trust me."

He looked me in the eye.

"Alright. But only if you tell me yours."

"Deal." I turned to fully face him.

"Um, well, I…" He faltered.

"Out with it, Pierre. I won't laugh. I promise."

"I know. I…" He drew a deep breath. "I love you."

I started. He looked away for a moment. Then he looked at me for my reaction.

I didn't know what to do. My face remained stony and I processed his words. I again imposed the question on myself. Did I love Pierre? Then I realized something. I did.

"Guess what?" I said in a sing-song voice. "I love you, too."

He grinned. He drew in closer and I closed my eyes.

He was going to kiss me. I didn't care about the rumors anymore. I had found someone I really loved and cared about. No one else could ever come between us. He gently touched his lips to mine. It wasn't a real kiss, but it was as close to one as either one of us were truly ready for. I opened my eyes and he pulled me to my feet.

"I was afraid to say it before. But now, I feel free! I love you! I love you so much!"

I laughed. He grabbed me around the waist and hugged me. He twirled me in the air and I held on to him as my feet lost their hold on the ground.

It was a perfect moment.

He set me down and took me by the hands. "I love you. I will always love you. You and no one else."

I sighed with pleasure.

"Let's go inside. I'm parched. And you must be as well. After all, you did beat me in that race. In which, I'd like to point out, you so cheated!"

"I honestly thought we were past this! I won! Fair and square. And to prove it to you, I will race you to…the fountain in the drive. Ready, set, go!" I didn't wait for him to protest. I ran. I was filled with new energy. The rumors were true. And our friendship was not in the least bit changed.

I felt him come up beside me and I pushed myself to go faster.

I was almost off of the lawn when I tripped. I mean, genuinely, tripped and fell. But I didn't hit the ground. Pierre had come up behind me and caught me. So romantic! Then he playfully dropped me to the ground and lay beside me. I propped myself up and looked into his eyes and muttered a thank-you.

"Anytime." He returned. His hand hesitantly inched its way to my face and brushed back some loose hair. I made a silly face and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"You promise you love me?" I said softly.

"Forever." He said back.

"But you promise?" I wanted to make sure.

"I promise. And I always keep my word." He smiled.

"I know."

"Promise you love me?" He asked.

"Definitely. And here." I cut off a tassel from my dress and tied it around my finger. "I promise. And I'll always wear this ring as proof." I grinned.

"Well, then, we're going to have to get you a more sturdy ring! What's your favorite? Gold or silver?"

I swatted at his chest. "Seriously! This is serious! I just pledged my love to you and you're already trying to get me to wear a fancy French ring."

Finally, we stopped talking and resolved to just lay there, looking in each other's eyes. Eventually, I righted myself and re-strapped my heels. Then we broke out into a bout of laughter. He took me by the arm and led me inside.


End file.
